Find Me By The Sea
by mockingjay4life
Summary: The secrets, lies, and things left unsaid threaten to unravel me today. So I run to the sea, submerging myself underwater to push the thoughts away. About the Capitol, District 4, and the girl with the haunted green eyes. Then there are my own secrets, and sometimes those are the most difficult ones to reveal. - Finnick's Story 65th Hunger Games and Beyond. Rated M to be safe


This is the **first** chapter to my **first** fan fiction attempt and **first** creative writing project in eight years. I would **really really really** appreciate it if you would write a review, even if it just says that you read it! It's going to be quite a long story so I hope you will enjoy it and stick with me till the end!

(also, the first part is a little gory, but I promise it isn't all like that!)

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Chapter 1:

The cannon fires in the distance, its thunderous boom echoing through the arena. Twelve days, twenty-three cannons. Twenty-three tributes dead. His eyes are still open but the screams have subsided. As he sputtered his last few breaths, his lung had collapsed and he drowned from the fluids seeping inside of him. Just moments ago I heard him flailing his limbs in a useless attempt to free himself from the net. But there wasn't a point to it. The materials that I had received almost a week ago were sturdy. And years of experience tying strong knots had allowed me to create this impenetrable net.

His eyes filled with terror, he knew he was trapped. So secure in the net that I could have let him sit for hours, making him wait for his imminent death. Over the years this has been a frequent occurrence. Teasing the tributes, watching them squirm, beg for their death, and a merciless slaughter. Hardened hearts carry out these cruel acts. I've killed in these Games, but gain no pleasure prolonging the suffering.

So once I heard the splashes coming from the shallow water, I ran to the side of the marsh. Standing amongst narrow blades of grass that scratched against my skin, my trident soared through the air, landing perfectly on its target. He looked at the weapon, its prongs firmly in his chest. A flash of pain before his legs buckled beneath him. But as he fell I realized my aim had been a fraction off. The trident hadn't made its way to his heart, resulting in an instant death. It sunk into his lungs, and the adrenaline surging through his body could not squash the pain as he cried out. At least three minutes passed until the tears in his eyes finally glazed over, draining the color, turning him to ash. Silence.

"Ladies and Gentleman, I am pleased to present the victor of The 65th Hunger Games. From District 4, Mr. Finnick Odair."

The voice rings loud in celebration for the entire nation of Panem to hear, but I am alone, a party of one. I look down to find myself in the swampy water. Mechanically, I walk towards the floating body, slowly gliding through the thick water. The thought flashes before me that I don't know his name. His curly hair is matted to his forehead. District Ten, I remember, slightly surprised that an outlying District lasted this long.

I pull the trident from his chest, and blood flows freely from his flesh into the water. The rich scarlet swirls in the water, the gaping holes in his body continue to spew out liquid. I am knee deep in a pool of his blood.

A distant rumbling grows louder and louder and a hovercraft with the Panem seal appears, making its way through the grey sky. Its engine creates gusts of wind that send ripples through the marsh, quickly transforming into fierce red swells that crash against my body. I run to shore before I become engulfed by bloody waves. Once back on the muddy shore I hunch over, hands on my knees, panting, gripping my trident firmly in my right hand. The hovercraft flies straight above my head and again I am almost knocked over by strong blasts of air. Sounds of a door opening overhead, I look up to see a man in a white jumpsuit being lowered down on a platform.

"Ready?" he asks. I simply nod. He steps off the platform to collect me, grabbing me by the waist and draping my left arm over his shoulder. For the first time I notice a blinding pain radiating through my entire left side. I wince but blink back the discomfort; I will not give anyone the satisfaction of seeing me weak. But my feeble attempts at keeping up with his pace are noted and he slows down. He helps me onto the platform, maintaining his hold on me so I don't fall off the edge.

Up, up we go, past the swamp and the knotted clump of trees whose deadly mutts contained deep within them begin to howl. Higher and higher, the whirring of the wind gets louder as we approach the open doors at the bottom of the hovercraft. It makes my head spin and I feel myself slipping into a trance state.

The body of the twenty-third tribute, District Ten, the last to fall, still remains in the water. He is probably still caught in the sturdy net I had fastened, but all I can see now is a small glint of red.

"Congratulations," the man in the white jumpsuit grins eagerly. His tone filled with excitement, satisfaction that he gets to be the first person to say these words to me. It is the last thing I hear before I let go of everything, succumbing to the agony cursing through my veins, slowly fading into oblivion. I pray for a deep dreamless slumber, but my mind has other plans, slipping from reality and drifting through haze. Shadows dance and the harsh glare of the sun blinds me. I am back in the games.


End file.
